The losing battle, with no solution.
Two hundred flowers, scattered like pollution.
I remember that day, when I was told Jaime passed away.
Now she`s lying in the velvet,
with two hundred flowers on her grave.
And by looking you can`t see that,
she was 23 when she died that day.
Her open casket, I couldn`t bring myself to see.
Seeing her birth to death day,
didn`t make it easier for me.
She was so young, and we did all that we could do.
So full of live, but it drained through and through.
How is it fair that, she only got to be 23?
Anyone could have seen her bravery.
So, why her? Why then?
Why are memories such a blur?
Why her? Why then?
Why are memories such a blur.
O Jaime...
23...